The weekend before starting a new job hit me hard.
Out of nowhere, my decision to leave started to feel completely irrational. Why walk away from a place where I was appreciated, paid well, and had strong bonds with the people around me?
Suddenly, the fear kicked in, and not the kind you can brush off easily. I started spiraling through worst-case scenarios.
What if I’m not good enough? What if I completely overestimated myself? What if this is where the illusion cracks and I’m exposed for the fraud I always feared I might be?
That little voice, the one powered by impostor syndromem has always been around. By now, I’ve learned not to argue with it. I just let it talk, try not to give it too much space, and focus on the steps ahead. I know it takes me a while to find my rhythm when I’m out of my element. I’ve been here before.
But this time, something else was eating away at me too: the human side of things.
I’d been incredibly lucky in my last job. The work was fulfilling, but more importantly, I had strong relationships. The team was special. Supportive. Real. That environment made me a better dev and a more confident person. And then the questions started creeping in.
What if that was a one-off? What if I just signed up for a place full of politics, dysfunction, or indifference?
I tried to stay distracted over the weekend, but I could feel the anxiety building. I got snappier. Bit my nails more. My thoughts were looping and I couldn’t seem to stop them. Nothing felt “rational,” but I guess that’s part of it. Transitions are messy. Especially for someone wired like me.
And then Monday came.
I sat down at my desk, laptop ready, hands sweaty, drinking water out of habit more than thirst. One thing nobody really talks about is how weird remote onboarding is. At least in an office, someone shows you around, introduces you, gives you a tour of the coffee machine. Remotely, you’re just sitting there… waiting for meetings to start, hoping your camera angle isn’t weird, wondering what “normal” looks like in a totally new company.
To be fair, the pre-onboarding was smooth. Paperwork sorted. Laptop shipped. Agenda set. I had two intro calls scheduled for the morning, one with HR, one with my new team lead. Still, the nerves were real.
When the email arrived to set up my accounts, everything worked like clockwork. Smooth, efficient, even comforting. But then came the moment: First call. Teams ringing. Pulse rising. “Join the meeting.”
Click.
And… everyone was amazing.
Warm, welcoming, kind. No corporate stiffness, no rushed intros, no awkward silences. Just good, genuine people. My HR contact was great. My team lead even better. The whole vibe felt thoughtful, calm, and human. It was clear from the get-go that they weren’t just trying to get me “up to speed,” but actually wanted me to feel comfortable. Like I belonged.
I don’t want to get ahead of myself, it’s still early days, but I can honestly say I’ve never been onboarded by a nicer group of people. Everyone I’ve met has been skilled, grounded, and eager to help. It feels like the kind of place where I’ll be challenged in the best possible way, surrounded by people I can learn from.
And just like that, most of my worries vanished.
This doesn’t mean everything’s solved. I’m still anxious. I still have to prove myself. But for now, I’m reminded of something I tend to forget:
People make all the difference. A great team doesn’t fix everything, but it makes change feel a lot less terrifying.
And honestly? I can’t wait to get started.